


Uncovered

by HotMolasses



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood, Cannibalism, Choking, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, M/M, Murder Husbands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:16:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6335731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotMolasses/pseuds/HotMolasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Hannibal have been living together and murdering together for some years.  They've had sex, but it's only ever for Will's pleasure.  Hannibal won't let Will touch him, claiming he can't lose control.  Will has had enough of that, and surprises Hannibal with a piece of his own liver, to draw out the real person behind the mask that he so desperately wants to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Will’s breath rushed from between his lips as his head pressed into the pillow, his heart racing so fast it forced him to pant.  Hannibal’s hands were as steady and sure as always as they slid down the bare sides of Will’s stomach, his tongue making long, savoring licks across Will’s stomach.  Will’s hands, by comparison, would not cease to tremble, not when he stroked them along Hannibal’s bare shoulders, not when he combed his fingers through his straight hair, not when he clasped them tightly in the sheets as Hannibal’s tongue gently slid over the tip of his erection.

              “Mmmmaaahh!” was all Will managed to say, and while Hannibal wasn’t prone to smiling during sex (because he wasn’t prone to smiling much at all), Will could still _feel_ his smile, through his empathy, how _pleased_ he was at how easily Will came undone because of his tongue.

              That dangerous, perilous tongue, and mouth, and teeth; the weapons of a fierce predator that had never been bested; the flesh that those teeth had sliced; the lives that mouth had taken.  Will trembled from that thought, too; his entire being consumed with awe and love and depth for the creature that, for some reason, loved him.

              Hannibal sucked Will deep into his throat and Will moaned.  Hannibal’s tongue worked up the side, pressing his cock to the roof of his mouth, squeezing it between his hard palette and soft muscle, savoring him, enjoying him, _tasting_ him.  Will knew how much Hannibal enjoyed having his flesh in his mouth; he did it every chance he could; sucking on Will’s ear, his fingers, knuckles, kissing his shoulders, his cheek, his throat.  The bruises that lined Will’s throat…

              “Yyyaaaah!” Will cried as Hannibal sucked, deep and long and hard, pulling, surrounding Will with the wet heat of his mouth and lips, working, hard, for the prize he was after, the part of Will he could swallow, the part of Will he could _consume_.

              And yet it was always Will who lost control; it was Will’s body that shook from sensation, it was Hannibal sating his own desires and yet it was Will who cried out incoherently as he came, giving Hannibal what he wanted.  He sucked Will’s ejaculate so hard it was almost as if he was drawing it out, rather than waiting for Will to produce it.  As he did everything in life, he made a show of it, a performance to demonstrate how _much_ he enjoyed swallowing Will’s semen, his throat bobbing, his eyes closed in pleasure, soft, gentle sighs leaving through his nostrils until Will had nothing left to give.

              Will yanked Hannibal away by his hair, pulling him up to his face where Hannibal licked the tears from his cheeks, drinking yet another part of him.  Will shook from _so_ _much_ sensation; being touched at all had always been overwhelming for him and Hannibal had him completely undone.

              Then in an act that, for anyone who did not know him as Will did, seemed _very_ un-Hannibal-like, Hannibal pulled Will to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around him, holding him close, stroking his hair with his fingers, shushing gently in his ear.  Will sobbed, an utter mess, the picture of instability that had chased Alana so very far away.

              “Come back together for me, Will.” Hannibal said softly, and slowly Will did just that, enveloped in the warmth of the vicious, powerful monster in whose bed he voluntarily lay, his eyes fluttering at each kiss Hannibal placed on his forehead, until his twitches calmed, until he was still.

              Will pulled his face back to look into Hannibal’s eyes; the eyes that pierced through him and burned into the depths of his soul, eyes that saw him even before he could see himself. 

              “How is it that you still utterly destroy me and reassemble me, even now, when we are no longer enemies?” he asked.  Hannibal didn’t immediately respond, instead pressing his lips tightly to Will’s forehead, stroking his fingers through his hair.

              “It is only those who know us so completely who have the power to create and destroy us.” he said.  Will gave a shaky, though genuine smile, reaching up his fingers to stroke them gently along Hannibal’s cheek. 

              “Then how do you stay so together, even in our most intimate moments?” Will responded, and they both knew he wasn’t talking about sex.

              “Perhaps so many years of hunting on my own have dulled my reaction to it, a bit.”

              “Bullshit.” Will replied.  “You just refuse to let go, Hannibal.  You always keep yourself reserved.  Even in the midst of the kill, you hold back.  And sex?  You _never_ let me touch you.” Will said, gently stroking his fingers down the side of Hannibal’s body, barely getting to his hip before Hannibal’s fingers wrapped gently around his wrist and halted him there.

              “See?  I can feel your arousal pressed into me.  I know you want me.  Why do you deny yourself?”

              Hannibal brought Will’s hand back up to his lips and gently kissed his fingers, taking his time, not responding for so long that Will wasn’t sure he’d even get an answer.

              Hannibal lifted his fingers to comb them through Will’s hair, brushing his curls away from his eyes.

              “The beast that lies within me,” he began

              “Is _beautiful_.” Will interrupted, and Hannibal gently pressed a finger to Will’s lips.

              “I may only let it out in pieces, if I am to retain control.” Hannibal said.  “If I were to set it free, it would not be easily contained again, and I have no guess as to what it will do.”

              “You’re afraid you’ll hurt me…”

              Hannibal’s hand flew up to crush Will’s jaw between his fingers with a grip of steel, his body pinning him to the bed as every one of his muscles flexed with power.

              “I _know_ I would hurt you.” he growled, his eyes dark, his breath heavy, his teeth bared.  “Do you know what it takes for me not to _taste_ you?  To bite you, to swallow your flesh down into my throat, to savor the most precious delicacy I will ever know?  And yet, I want you to be there in the morning.  So I must deny myself.”

              Will had no immediate answer.  He had no words, so he responded by lifting his fingers to stroke them through Hannibal’s hair, to show he was not afraid.

              “There must be a way.” Will whispered softly, neither of their eyes unlocking from each other, “For you to let yourself _free_ , Hannibal, to get lost in the moment, and trust me to guide you back, as I trust you.”

              “It is not _you_ that I do not trust.  It is myself.  I fear you will not survive…”

              Will tightened his grip on the side of Hannibal’s face and held his gaze with force.

              “You have to trust me that I can survive.” he said plainly.  “I’m not some victim.  I’ve fought against you and I’ve fought beside you.  Hunted with you; killed with you.  I _know_ you, both as an enemy and as a lover.”

              Their eyes burned into each other for an unspoken eternity, and Will could _feel_ the battle raging within Hannibal; felt every argument and defense that he had against such an idea, and felt him, one by one, put them all down.

              “You know me as no other has.” he finally conceded.

              “Then allow me to give you pleasure.”

              Hannibal’s eyes wavered, then, and Will could see the desire behind them.  He nodded slowly, and leaned down to devour Will’s mouth, leaving him a groaning mess pressed into the bed when he finally pulled back up.

              “Not tonight.” Hannibal said, and Will rolled his eyes. 

              “I will not got back on my word, Will.”

              Will gave him a sarcastic smile

              “Then why wait?”

              “I need…to prepare myself.  Mentally.”

              “You never let me prepare _myself_ …”

              “Yes, but when _you_ fall apart, I am not in danger.” Hannibal replied, and Will only sighed. 

              “Fine, Hannibal.  When you are ready.  You let me know when.”

              He only nodded, and the conversation dropped, and Will thought that was the end of it, at least until morning, when he awoke to an empty bed and a note.

              “My dear William, I want you to know that I have considered every word you said to me with utter wholeheartedness.  Because of this, there is much I need to do.  I will return in three months’ time, and then we will do as you have proposed.  Sincerely, Hannibal.”

              Will sank back down onto the bed, deep in thought.  From his point of view, Hannibal was being incredibly overdramatic.  Will knew exactly what he was doing.  He was getting his affairs in order.  _All_ of them.  If things such as the prisoner at the Estate Lecter guarded by Chioh were anything to go by, the amount of affairs Hannibal Lecter had to get in order to prepare for his death was probably a very long list.

              Will knew that Hannibal was convinced he would kill Will.  And once he did, he was fully prepared to kill himself; as neither was willing, nor able, to live without the other.  If only Will was able to convince Hannibal of what he was _certain_ of himself—than Hannibal would _never_ kill him; just as Will was never able to kill Hannibal, not even when he was trying with all of his might.

              “It’s going to be fine.” Will said softly to the note, and then sighed, because he knew there was no arguing.  He would just have to wait three months, perhaps use it to prepare himself, to come up with the most well-planned romantic evening any lover had ever planned, given the amount of time he had.

              And then, he had an idea.


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal returned exactly three months later, to the day.  Will heard his car pull into the driveway and rose from the couch where he’d been reading, nerves dancing in his veins suddenly, as if he were about to go on a first date in high school.  He opened the door as Hannibal came up the walkway, and wasn’t quite prepared for him to drop his luggage and sweep Will into a fierce, crushing embrace.

              He buried his nose into Will’s neck and inhaled, his fingers stroking through Will’s curls on the back of his head.  Will brought his arms up to wrap them tightly around Hannibal, leaning his lips towards his ear.

              “Welcome home.” he whispered. 

              Hannibal’s hands flew to the sides of his face and jerked his head back just far enough so that he could crush their lips together.  Will hummed, gently stroking Hannibal’s hair with his own fingers, almost having to fight him to pull away enough to look into his eyes.

              “Every moment I have been gone has been torture.” Hannibal said.  Will laughed.

              “I missed you, too.”

              He stepped back, though he could feel Hannibal’s reluctance to let go of him, and walked behind him to pick up his luggage.

              “Go shower; I know you want to; and we can prepare dinner together.” he said.  Hannibal gave him the strangest look, as if acting normal was the last thing he’d expected from Will.

              “Hannibal, you haven’t eaten me _yet_.” he said, and Hannibal’s lips tightened into a thin line, clearly not thinking any of this was a joke.

              “Go shower.” Will said again, and Hannibal nodded once, with a grunt, and finally entered the house.

 

              While he was preparing himself for dinner, Will got prepared as well.  He had once asked Hannibal if he wanted Will to wear the fine clothes and lifestyle that Hannibal wore—and he had replied “on occasion.”  Meaning he enjoyed Will exactly as he was; but he also enjoyed Will dressed to the nines.  Will guessed that after three months apart, all Hannibal wanted was to see Will being himself, so he showered and trimmed his beard neatly but otherwise did nothing out of the ordinary, wearing his usual jeans and flannel shirt.

              He was humming in the kitchen when Hannibal came down, tapping his fingers idly on the countertop as he flipped through Hannibal’s recipe box under the “L” section.  Hannibal entered the lavish kitchen dressed as himself- in a three-piece suit, though the jacket and waistcoat were draped over his arm as he was expecting to cook.  He took in the scene with a curious expression; Will, the recipe box, a bottle of unlabeled wine and a single piece of frozen meat, sealed in Hannibal’s characteristic plastic, thawing on a plate on the counter.

              “Have something in mind?” he asked, eyeing the meat and wine curiously.  Will looked up and could not hide his nerves now.  He tried to smile, but it came out shaky, very reminiscent of the old Will Graham in a lot of ways.

              “Yes.  Something special.” he said.  Hannibal cocked his head to the side and came around the counter, observing which recipes Will had been combing through.

              “Liver.” he said.  “Not your favorite.”

              Will gave a sarcastic smile and a soft little laugh.

              “No, but my choices were limited.”

              “Where is the recipe box?” Hannibal asked, and Will felt like teasing him, so he pretended not to know what he was talking about.

              “Right here.” he said.  The corner of Hannibal’s lip ticked up in annoyance, an expression that Will had learned over the years was his equivalent of rolling his eyes.

              “The _other_ recipe box, Will.”

              The one full of business cards.

              “No need.” Will replied.  “I know whose liver this is.”

              His voice wavered and suddenly, there was an enormous lump in his throat.  He screwed up all his courage to turn his face to Hannibal’s and look him in the eyes.

              “It’s mine.”

              Hannibal did not move.

              “You’ll have to forgive me for having it frozen.  But if I wanted to enjoy it with you, I needed about three months to heal.” he said, stepping back and lifting his shirt to display the new, still bright-pink scar above his old smile.  Hannibal’s eyes dragged torturously slowly down Will’s chest, lingering there, tracing the scar over and over, until he stepped forward to brush his fingers along it, so gently it tickled Will and he had to force himself not to laugh.  He couldn’t stop his skin from twitching, though.

              “You have…”

              Hannibal’s voice was soft and uncertain.  Will saw the first crack appear in his mask already; he had viewed many such cracks, but always Hannibal recovered…but not this time.  Will was going to _see_ him, even if it killed them both.

              He walked back to the counter and brushed his fingers tenderly, reverently across the surface of the plastic that held Will’s liver.

              “You have no idea what this means to me.” he said, and his voice cracked.  Will lowered his shirt and stepped forward, sliding his arms gently around Hannibal’s waist from behind him.  He leaned up and brushed his lips against his ear as he spoke.

              “Yes, I do.” he said softly.  “I absolutely, most certainly understand what this means.”

              He felt a shiver race through Hannibal’s entire body from head to toe, but then, to his disappointment, watched him re-compose himself.  He turned, masked fully replaced, and spoke in an even, confident tone.

              “Of course.” he said, and Will couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed…but he had many more cards up his sleeve.  “And the surgeon who removed it for you?” Hannibal asked, his tone back to curious again.

              “He’s in the freezer.” Will replied.  Hannibal nodded his approval.

              “You didn’t ask about the wine.” Will said.  Hannibal turned, picking up the bottle, rotating it in his palm as if the blank glass would give him a clue.  Knowing him, it probably would; he could probably guess at what brand _had_ been in the bottle, just from the bottle itself.

              “This has been re-filled.” he said, again curious, but no other emotion showing through in his voice.

              “Yes.” Will replied.  Taking a few steps towards a drawer, Hannibal pulled it open to fish out a corkscrew.  Will stood with anticipation as he popped the cork off and leaned his nose in to smell the bouquet.

              Hannibal’s eyes flashed with hunger as he turned to gaze at Will, and though his mouth did not open Will could practically see the drool dripping from the corners of his mouth.

              “This is blood.”

              “Also mine.” Will said.  “And that is fresh; I drew it this morning.”

              Hannibal set the bottle down carefully on the counter, and then he was shoving Will into the wall, his mouth devouring his lips, a low, menacing growl in his throat.  Will moaned up into the kiss, though it was more teeth than lips, Hannibal sucking his lip into his mouth and rolling it between his teeth, holding him captive as he ran his tongue over the pink flesh.

              “You are playing a very dangerous game, Will Graham.” Hannibal growled, his eyes dark and _needy_.

              “I’m not playing any game.” Will said, locking his eyes to Hannibal’s and holding his gaze steady.  “I want you, all of you, full and _real_ , and I will do whatever it takes in order to _see_ you.”

              Hannibal shuddered, his eyes flashed, and he leaned forward, his teeth sinking into Will’s neck.  Will cried from the pain, but his arms tightened around Hannibal as he felt his flesh pierced by his teeth.  Hannibal’s hands grabbed Will’s arms and threw his wrists roughly against the wall, and Will allowed it, though he was nearly as strong as Hannibal and could have fought him.  But he desired no such thing.

              Hannibal pulled back and sucked Will’s blood into his mouth, crushing their bodies together.  His hands slid down Will’s sides, rucking up his shirt, his fingers digging into his flesh, nails curling to scrape it away, making Will cry out with pain.  Hannibal pulled his lips away from Will’s neck and he felt warm trickles of blood run down his shoulder and into the collar of his shirt.  Hannibal brought his own fingers to his lips and sucked the skin out from under them, flashing his eyes up to stare into Will’s face.

              “Do you think this surprises me?” Will asked.  “Do you think I haven’t seen you in flashes and pieces?  I _know_ you, Hannibal.  Stop hiding.  Let me see.”

              Hannibal snarled, lunged, and swooped Will up into his arms like he wasn’t a full-grown man.  He turned from the kitchen and walked towards the stairs, and all Will did was turn and wrap his arms around Hannibal’s neck.

              “I am going to devour you while we wait for your liver to thaw.” Hannibal whispered in his ear. 

              “You’d better.” was Will’s reply, and even though he _knew_ how strong Hannibal was, he was still surprised at how easily he took a flight of stairs while carrying him.

              They crashed through the door of the bedroom and Hannibal tossed Will onto the bed, who tried to shimmy up towards the headboard, but with a growl Hannibal yanked him back down by his waist so that his feet touched the floor.  Hannibal’s fingers flew over the button’s on Will’s shirt, yanking it off of him roughly so that the sleeves turned inside-out, a thing he would normally _never_ allow.  Will’s heart was racing, the cracks in Hannibal’s mask revealing the real person beneath, feral and visceral and savage. 

              Will let his arms fall above his head as he fell back against the duvet, Hannibal looming over him as he undid his own shirt with more haste than Will had ever seen.  He tossed it to the floor and his shoes, socks, and _well-tailored pants_ were tossed in a heap as well.  Will’s belt and sneakers were last, his jeans and boxers yanked down in one swift motion, and then Hannibal rose, proud and muscular and carnal, his eyes raking over Will’s body like he was, indeed, dinner.

              His chest heaved with breath, his hair already disheveled, his lips quivering as he fought to retain control.

              “Stop it.” Will said.  “Let it go.  Let me _see_ you.  Take.”

              Hannibal’s hands were around Will’s throat so quickly he didn’t have time to think.  He would have let Hannibal choke him, had he any warning, but his knee-jerk reaction was for his hands to come up and grab Hannibal’s wrists to try to pull his hands away.  Hannibal snarled and pressed harder, his grip as solid as iron around Will’s throat, and he found that he really, truly, could not breathe.  Hannibal’s lips came down to kiss him, but Will could not respond, so occupied with not breathing that his brain was.  He tried not to struggle but instinct took over, and his fingers attempted to pull Hannibal’s hands away…and then he realized he could not.

              He started to see spots, his eyes growing wide as they peered up into Hannibal’s face.  He recalled his promise—that he would survive this, and brought up a knee between Hannibal’s legs.  The jerk was enough to loosen Hannibal’s grip and Will yanked his hands away with force, his back arching as he gasped for breath.

              Hannibal’s grip was back almost instantly, but this time it was only one hand and he held his chin, pushing his head up, exposing his bleeding neck.  His lips were at Will’s ear and even though his voice was soft, it was still low and menacing.

              “Struggle if you like.” he said, and before Will could think he was flipped onto his stomach, his arms pinned behind his back under just one of Hannibal’s powerful hands.  His knees were now on the floor, which Hannibal knocked open with a foot, exposing Will to him as his hand roughly slid between his ass cheeks.

              “Oh, God, Hannibal…” Will groaned, feeling fingers circle his hole and then shove in roughly.  Will cried out from the burn and bit the blanket hard with his teeth.  Tears stung his eyes and yet he closed them in pleasure, in memory, from years before, when Hannibal used to manhandle him all the time.  Gave him scars.  Nearly killed him.

              “You’re clean.” Hannibal growled in surprise.

              “I was hoping.” Will returned.  The fingers left him quickly, making him cry out again, and then both of Hannibal’s hands encircled his wrists.  He pulled his arms straight, holding them tightly down and Will felt him fall to his knees.  As Will’s fingers clutched uselessly at his own hips, Hannibal’s face pressed against his ass, his tongue licking up his crack in a long, savoring swipe.

              “Unf.” Will managed to say, and Hannibal licked again and again, long and slow, tasting, savoring.  His tongue dove deep into Will and he groaned, pushing his own forehead into the duvet, the smears of red from his neck dancing before his eyes.  He tried to struggle, just a bit, just to see if he _could_ , and found that the way Hannibal held his arms kept him almost helplessly useless.  The idea of that, plus the sensations Hannibal’s tongue was causing on such sensitive skin sent waves of heat through Will’s body.  He stopped struggling and instead gave a long, low groan, his body relaxing into the mattress as Hannibal devoured him.

              “You are exquisite.” Hannibal purred, and though he had said those words to Will a thousand times, his tone was entirely different.  His voice was rough.  Calloused.  _Real_.

              Hannibal rose, moving Will’s wrists to the small of his own back again, pressing them down with his left hand.  Will made a token struggle, to feel Hannibal’s strength, and also because Hannibal had told him to.  He found quickly that even a real struggle wouldn’t get him very far, and then thoughts about that were flooded away by the finger that slid deep into him.

              “Oh God.” He said, panting as Hannibal slid in and out, spreading his other fingers eagerly over Will’s flesh, pressing them into his balls and against his ass.  Will turned his head to try to see Hannibal’s face, and was surprised when he met his eyes, piercing and clear.  Then Hannibal _smiled_.

              It was a creepy, predatory, vicious smile, and to anyone else it would have been terrifying.  Instead, Will felt his heart begin to melt.  This was what he was after.  This was what he needed to see.  Hannibal.

              “I see you.” he whispered, and Hannibal lifted an eyebrow and licked his lips.  Will found a smile spreading over his own face.  “Don’t stop now.”

              Hannibal roughly shoved in a second finger, and Will arched his back, or rather, tried to.  He’d done this to himself when he’d masturbated plenty of times, trying to imagine what it would feel like to have Hannibal in him, but this was nothing like it.  Strong, certain, and relentless, Hannibal’s fingers pushed him open wider, going deeper and spreading him wider than Will had ever dared on his own.

              “I want to see your face.” Will said.  Hannibal’s answer was to shove in a third finger, and Will groaned from pain and pleasure, his face melting into the mattress.  Hannibal twisted his fingers as he worked, his thumb stroking whatever part of Will’s skin it came into contact with.  Will was starting to lose blood in his hands and he subconsciously tried to shift.  When Hannibal didn’t allow him to he tried harder, then finally jerked his arms free from his grasp to bring his hands under himself.  He shivered as they filled with blood again, and keened as Hannibal’s now free hand reached around his waist to surround his cock.

              “Fffuck…” Will said, and Hannibal hummed with delight behind him. 

              “I enjoy watching you fall apart under my fingertips.” he said.

              “Oh, believe me, I know.” Will replied.  “But tonight, you will fall apart as well, or you don’t get to eat your dinner.”

              He felt Hannibal freeze behind him.  Felt him pull away, his fingers leaving Will’s hole now wide and empty and cold.  He sighed with disappointment as he heard Hannibal walk out of the room, and wondered for just how much longer this would go on.  He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, his cock still throbbing and his blood still racing, his body not yet caught up with the idea that nothing was going to happen.

              But then Hannibal was back, holding in his hand a bottle of massage oil.  He placed it on the nightstand and crawled onto the bed, where he hooked his hands under Will’s arms and yanked him up to the headboard to lay beside him.

              Hannibal stroked his fingers through Will’s hair and their eyes met.

              “You will be the death of me, one way or another.” Hannibal whispered, and then went in for a kiss.  This one was tender and reverent, the type of kisses Will was used to from Hannibal, his fingers combing through Will’s hair and Will groaned from the touch.  But this time was _going_ to be different; he was going to have Hannibal in pieces when he was done; so he brazenly stroked his fingers down Hannibal’s chest and felt, rather than heard, his breath hitch as Will stroked the tip of his cock.

              He circled his palm around his shaft and started to stroke.  He was incredibly warm and much thicker than Will; not that Will was small.  He felt the precum leaking from Hannibal and stroked his thumb over the tip, slicking it down, covering his palm with it. 

              Hannibal’s head fell to the pillow with a soft groan.  Will sat up to get a better grip, starting off slowly, squeezing near the head and pulling down, stretching the sensitive skin at the tip.  Hannibal’s hands fell slack at his sides and his jaw relaxed, and Will’s heart and mind both sang in unison _‘finally’._

              He stroked faster, feeling Hannibal swell in his palm, the heat rising to make his cock grow from pink to red to purple.  He reached over to the bedside table and poured the massage oil onto it, slicking his palm, Hannibal’s cock, dripping down over his balls.  It glistened in the light, pre-cum leaking more now, mixing with the oil, and Hannibal’s body began to tense.

              Will watched him transform almost like something mythical.  Every muscle tightened, spreading from his clasped fingers, up his arms to his shoulders, then down to his abs.  His toes curled and his hips jerked, the veins in his neck fluttered as his nostrils flared.  When Hannibal’s eyes snapped open, they might as well have been fire.

              He rose and shoved Will onto his back, yanking his knees open roughly.  Hannibal’s eyes locked onto his as he pushed his hips up, his cock pressing under Will’s balls, against his opening that had been wide open, but now had started to close some.

              “You will be mine.” Hannibal said, and pushed hard into Will, breaching him, his girth stretching him open, making Will cry out.  Will’s fingers trembled as they clasped the blanket, Hannibal shoving his knees up with his hands, spreading him open further, invading him, taking him.

              Hannibal snarled and shook, not waiting for Will to settle.  He fucked him, hard and fast and immediate, deep, relentless, rough.  Will’s eyes teared again, Hannibal’s nails digging into his thighs hard enough to draw blood, doing nothing to ease his pain.  Still he forced his eyes open, staring up into the face of the beast, watching the mask fall away piece by piece.

              Hannibal’s hair was a disaster now, the lines along his mouth no longer smooth at all but showing intense emotion.  His brow was wrinkled and his eyes _burned_ into Will, his lips parting in a sneer.

              “Show me.” Will dared, and Hannibal pounded harder.  Will panted from pain, but as Hannibal worked up a rhythm, he started to feel pleasure behind it.  Every part of him was swollen with blood, from the teasing, from lust, from adrenaline.  Pain was familiar and he knew it; so he could ignore it, and instead he focused on the other new sensations happening within him.

              He looked up and focused on Hannibal’s face.

              “You think you can scare me away?” Will dared.  Hannibal growled again, though this time, it sounded more like a purr.  He scraped his nails along Will’s thigh again, again bringing his nails to his lips, closing his eyes to savor the taste of Will’s skin on his tongue.  He sucked each of his fingers reverently, a delicacy, and Will watched his face _tremble_.

              “Go on, enjoy me.” he said.  “Eat me, Hannibal.  There’s a whole plate of me waiting for you, downstairs.”

              Hannibal opened his eyes and they were misty.  His breaths were heavy and thick, his thrusts more desperate and erratic. 

              “Come on.  I’m yours; now you be mine.” Will said.  Hannibal’s teeth sank into his own lips, drawing blood from them, his eyes watering from the pain as the red flowed forth, dripping down onto his chin.  He leaned forward, bringing their bodies close, their chests rubbing together as he pressed his lips to Will, and Will sucked, and drank.

              Hannibal shivered, his arms clasping Will tightly to himself, crushing their bodies together.  With a final slam he drove himself into Will, his muscles convulsing with power, his entire body tense and trembling.  His orgasm lasted a long time, and Will held him through every pulse of it, wrapping his arms tightly around his back, holding him close, looking up into his quivering eyes that finally, _finally_ , swam with emotion, deep and visceral and real.

              Hannibal collapsed on top of Will in a panting, sweating heap.  Will stroked his fingers through his disheveled hair and planted kisses on his cheeks, licking the blood from Hannibal’s chin into his mouth.  Hannibal rose and stroked his fingers through Will’s hair.

              “You have destroyed me.” he said, his voice shaken, his face _alive_.

              “You are _gorgeous_.” Will replied.  “If only you could see how beautiful you are.”

              Hannibal smiled.  Not the tight, calculated smile he normally gave, but a _real_ one, genuine and deep to his core.  Will smiled back, stroking his thumb over Hannibal’s _beautiful_ , alive face.

              “I may not be able to go into public for awhile, like this.” Hannibal said.  “I’ll sneer at every person I dislike, which are many.”

              “I don’t know.  You might have to get used to fucking me.  I kinda liked it.”

              “Kind of?” Hannibal said, and he laughed.  He _laughed_.  “You were begging me for more the entire time.”

              “Was I?” Will asked, trying to remember.  All he could recall was Hannibal’s face.

              Hannibal gave him another soft smile, nearly a laugh again. 

              “Yes.” he said.  “Quite a lot.”

              He nuzzled his face into the side of Will’s neck, licking gently at the blood there.  He pulled back then and looked down at Will’s ravaged body; deep scratches across his skin, the bite mark that would bruise a dark purple by tomorrow.

              “Come to think of it, no one should see you, either.”

              Will reached up a hand and stroked it along Hannibal’s cheek.  He leaned into it, an action he had never done before.

              “No one should _ever_ see us, besides us.” he said.  “Which is why you _have_ to let me see you, now and then.”

              Hannibal leaned down and placed a gentle, reverent kiss upon Will’s forehead.

              “Oh, I doubt I’ll ever be able to hide from you again.”

             


End file.
